


A Little Family

by Adm_Hawthorne, Googlemouth



Series: A Little [8]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Rizzles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adm_Hawthorne/pseuds/Adm_Hawthorne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Googlemouth/pseuds/Googlemouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up to "A Little Panic" What happens after the talk with Angela, and when do they tell Korsak? Rizzles. Cowritten with Googlemouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Characters aren't mine. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.

"If you've come here to talk about you and my daughter, you're wasting your time," Angela Rizzoli opened the door to find her daughter's girlfriend standing, alone, waiting to be asked in. "We've already talked. What else is there to say?" She frowned, stepping back to let the smaller woman in. "Get in out of the rain." Not bothering to see if the young woman was following her, she turned around and headed to the kitchen. "Family doesn't need permission to come in the house, Maura," she called out as the matriarch left the room.

Two perfectly sculpted eyebrows lifted in surprise, but Maura was not one to need to be told twice. She scooted inside and closed the door against the downpour with the hand that was not buried in her raincoat with a squirming lump. "Go on inside," she said in a small, cute voice as she knelt to the floor to set down Joe Friday, then removed her raincoat to hang in the front entryway near the open umbrella that had protected her on the way in from the car. Joe Friday was already making free in one of her many homes away from home, sniffing around to ascertain that nothing much had changed since her last visit. Once divested of all burdens save her burgundy patent leather bag, the honey-blonde headed in towards where she knew Angela would be: the kitchen, the hearth, the heart of the home and the seat of her power as reigning queen. _Angela's in her kitchen and all's right with the world,_ Maura thought with a grin.

"Actually, I didn't," said the younger female as she stepped inside, set down the bag, and surveyed the scene. While Angela chopped things, stirred other things, and generally engaged in controlling the chaos of Italian cuisine, Maura decided to step in and do one thing she'd never been permitted to before, as a guest. _She called me family. Let's test that._ She put on one of the many aprons hanging from a hook in the broom closet and pushed up her sleeves, stepping up to the sink to begin washing the already-used utensils and vessels. Her hands were already soapy by the time Angela could have objected. "I know you're not happy about our relationship, and I want to share with you some things that might make it easier for you to understand and to live with. Jane needed Tuesday to be about her. Today it's about you."

For a long time, Angela didn't reply. Instead, she concentrated on cooking, clearly considering what the young doctor had just told her to decide if she really wanted to know what the woman had in mind. After taste testing the pasta sauce, turning the oven down, and wiping her hand on a towel she kept near the oven for the purpose, she turned with a sigh. "When you're done with those, I could use some help chopping and sautéing the onions for the sauce. It's getting about time to add those." Frowning, Angela stepped around Maura to the other side of the cabinet to start work on the noodles, measuring dry ingredients. "Jane never wanted to learn how to cook. Did you know that? She said it was a waste of time when she could just go out some place. I couldn't get her in the kitchen until she was nearly 16," the older woman moved to measure out wet ingredients. "Now, you wouldn't even know she didn't know how to boil an egg until she was a teenager." She pulled out a mixing bowl. "Rizzolis… it might take us a while to learn something, but, once we do, we get the hang of it pretty quickly." She glanced over to the stovetop. "Maura, will you stir the sauce? My hands are covered."

Quickly rinsing one hand of it suds, Maura stirred the sauce as requested, smiling privately at the ease of inclusion. Today _was_ all about Angela, but she couldn't help but feel she'd won something. Those onions would be chopped within an inch of their lives. "I do know that," replied the woman as she returned to the cheese grater she'd been washing. "It's one of many things you and Jane share. It is very much the way you both relate to family. When things get terrible, you don't shut down, run away, or pretend nothing is wrong. You might leave for a cooling off period, but even when you do, you care enough to come back and fight until there's some kind of resolution. That's why I knew you wouldn't hate Jane, or abandon her." The last knife slid neatly into the draining rack, and she dried her hands before picking up that same knife and the wooden cutting board and heading for the onions.

The frown on Angela's face was starting to become a permanent fixture. "I'm not happy my Janie thought I'd just walk away from her like that. She's my _daughter_. I would never abandon her." The dough was slowly becoming longer and thinner as Angela ran it through the press. For a time, she quietly worked the little machine. Sighing, she continued, her body language indicating that she didn't want to talk but determined to push on. "She's too hard on herself. I've never been disappointed in her. I worry, but I'm never disappointed. I'm proud of her, but her and Frankie's jobs are so dangerous and they're both alone with no one to take care," her hands stilled for a moment, "I worry, that's all."

Maura turned a burner on low and set the cutting board quite near them, but managed to refrain from explaining to Angela the chemical reaction between the flame and the sulfur in the onions and the fact that this would keep the fumes from making her cry. Tears, if any came, would be their own, and not coerced from them by a vegetable. "That wasn't really about you. That was more about Jane's fears for what the rest of the world will undoubtedly try to make her feel. She projected that fear onto you because you're her mother, the person whose approval she wants most in the world. You're the basis for so much of what she does, and is, that of course if she's afraid of something, she has to focus on you. If she's afraid of having every door closed to her, she thinks of _your_ door being closed to her, as the ultimate symbol of her fear of rejection. If she's afraid of being slapped in the face, she thinks of _your_ hand doing the slapping. Deep within herself, Jane knows you wouldn't do any of that, but she was so frightened that she couldn't think clearly."

"As much as you worry about her," continued the woman as she made quick work of chopping the small stack of onions, "she also worries about you. The other major factor in her fear was that you wouldn't be able to look at your daughter without seeing ugliness, perversion, and evil. I know Jane is very relieved that you seem not to have the most common reaction for a religious parent to have." At that, Maura looked up from the onion with a question in her eyes. Angela might appear fine, but was she, really?

Angela's jaw clenched for a moment. "She's my daughter, and I love her. I would love her even if she shot someone in cold blood, not that she would." The long, thin strip of pasta dough was now slowly being worked into long pieces of spaghetti by the little machine on Angela's counter. "But, I don't always understand her, and I don't always agree with what she's doing." The last of the pasta finished going through the machine. Angela began cutting the noodles down to size. Again Angela was silent as she thought, absentmindedly chewing on the corner of her lip. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered this as possibility for her. I talked to our priest about it a few years ago. Father Reynolds wasn't really," she blew out a frustrated sigh, "There's a reason we don't attend his services anymore. I like Father Martinez better anyway." She pulled out a pot to put water in to boil.

The knife stopped for a moment, lessening the ambient sounds in the kitchen, then resumed. "You changed churches for this, even before you were sure about Jane? Angela, that's..." Oh, there they were, the tears. "That's really sweet."

"If my daughter was going to be _that way_ ," the older woman said quietly as she waited for the pot to fill with water, "even if I didn't understand or completely agree with it, I was going to make sure she at least felt safe _somewhere_ when she needed to. I'm her _mother_. It's my job to make sure my children are protected." A grunt escaped as she pulled the pot up and placed it on the stove top.

Sweeping the last of the onions into the waiting bowl, Maura swapped places with Angela to wash the knife and board once again. It gave her time to compose herself; she knew the Rizzoli women were uncomfortable with her tears. "You know," she said, changing the subject, "it's okay to say the word. Jane does need to feel safe, but so do you. That's why I'm here. Jane tends to get a little tense in emotionally charged situations, as you must be exhaustively and exhaustingly aware, but since I didn't grow up here, I'm a little more removed from it. I want you to be able to ask me anything at all, and I also brought some things that might help you as you try to understand this new thing in her life."

The tight line Angela's mouth formed as Maura told her it was 'okay to say the word', was only made tighter when she heard the younger woman's offer to help. "Maura," she finished dropping the last of the noodles in the boiling water, "I like you. You're a good person. But, I don't think you really want me to ask you everything that is on my mind because," she stepped away from the stove to sit at the small kitchen table, "I'm trying hard not to be angry. I know that's not going to help anything. At least, that's what Frank keeps telling me." She rolled her eyes, very reminiscent of how her daughter did the same. "But don't mistake me not yelling for me being comfortable with you or happy with either of you right now."

"I know," Maura replied as she squeezed out the dish cloth and used it to wipe down the countertop one last time. "You're not happy, and you're not comfortable, and you're doing a very good job of holding yourself together." One final rinse and squeeze, and the dish cloth went to hang over the faucet. She did not sit down, but instead leaned one hip against the counter in a pose entirely unlike those she usually adopted. She had seen others do it, usually in movies with Jane, and it suggested relaxation, so she thought the visual cue might put Angela slightly more towards that frame of mind. "But I really mean it when I say you can ask me everything that's on your mind. That's why I asked Jane to stay home tonight. She doesn't need to hear you asking, or me answering. But she did say that she was comfortable _enough_ with you knowing… whatever you're going to know by the time we're finished."

"Make a pot of coffee and come sit down." Angela's voice held the same demanding tone she had when she gave one of her children a direct command, gentle but firm. "Frank's not coming home until late tonight." Little paws came clicking into the kitchen to stop by Angela's chair. "There's my grandpup," a wistful smile ghosted across her face as she picked the little animal up to pet. "I just don't understand why. We don't have anyone else in the family that way that we know of. We were never around those kinds of people. We sent her to Sunday school every Sunday until she moved out of the house," she set the squirming little ball of fur down to let Joe continue her rounds about the house. "And I know you two have dated men. Jane told me you've even set her up on a few blind dates. How did this happen? What did you do to my daughter?" There it was. The accusation that had gone unspoken but had been hanging in the air since Angela had been given the news.

Obligingly, Maura prepared a pot of coffee and set up two cups, doctoring the elder woman's as she had observed Angela doing several times: Lots of sugar, like her daughter, and a little cream. "That's a lot of questions, inherently, but I'll try to answer as best I can."

Maura went on as the coffee maker started to dribble its hot, dark, revivifying juice. "Jane is left-handed. If she'd been born fifty years before she was, she'd have had her left hand strapped to her body with a belt so that she would be forced to learn to write and do other things with her right hand. Two hundred years ago, she would have possibly been considered a witch, and hanged to death. Three hundred years ago, she would have been considered evil. Dexter, meaning right-handed, is a synonym for grace, capability, and facility. Sinister means left-handed, and I don't have to tell you what that means. The Catholic Church used to teach that left-handed people were inherently weaker, more sinful, more evil, devious, _deviant_. They have since changed their stance, which is good for Jane, because every year thousands of people die from trying to use right-handed tools and implements when they are left-handed. Since Jane was born less than fifty years ago, there was no problem with her orientation. You taught her to write, use scissors, throw, and bat left-handed. It never occurred to you that she shouldn't be left-handed, or that she should hide it from anyone. It was just the way she was. How did you know that she was left-handed? How did _she_ know it, when she was an infant or child? It's just something that came naturally to her, and you let her live that way because it never occurred to you that it wasn't appropriate."

"There's a difference between what hand you write with and who you're sleeping with." Angela's voice was sharp, hardened. "There's nothing in the book about not being left-handed." Taking in a deep breath, the older woman gave herself a mental pause before continuing. "I know the argument that some people are just born that way. I've ready the articles. I've watched the TV reports. I just never thought one of my own children would," again, she stopped to give herself a mental pause. "We didn't raise her like this, so it has to be something else." She shook her head, clearly angry and frustrated. "You're lucky I'm even talking to you."

"Yes, I am lucky," Maura acknowledged calmly, and that was food for thought. She placed herself squarely in the role of supplicant, despite also being ostensibly there as an educator. "So is Jane. No, you didn't bring her up to this. I don't like saying the word 'fault' in relation to something that, at least to me, isn't negative; but this isn't your… responsibility. This lies within Jane, not within you. But the truth is, I've read the book too, as part of my education in Western civilization, and there is nothing in it that forbids a loving same-sex relationship in the least. May I?" She walked over to the rather large purse (more like luggage) she had brought and pulled out a _Holy Bible_. It wasn't a well-loved, tattered copy, nor was it brand new as if it had never been cracked. When she opened it, it proved to be Hebrew/English in the front. Then came a second book, _The New Testament_ , which she opened to a page that held both English and Greek.

A few significant minutes later, she closed both books, having demonstrated that the only forbidden activity between two men was penetration, and there were no prohibitions at all between two women. "By contrast, although I only showed you a few passages, there are over one hundred sixty Biblical laws concerning what heterosexual couples are permitted or prohibited to do. According to Jewish and Christian doctrines, that is. I do have a copy of the Qur'an with me, if you'd like to compare those." Angela's glaring look indicated she was not interested. "No? All right. The point is that what is commonly understood is not always what is accurate."

"Now that you know this," Maura went on, once she was sure that Angela's world had been sufficiently rocked on at least one count, "would you like to address your other concerns? Or I could come back another evening, if this is too much all at once."

"You really don't want to know where I think you should go right now," Angela stood to pour the last of the coffee, start another pot, and move the cooked and cooled food into containers for the rest of the week. She sounded drained, tired. She shook her head as her hands worked in smooth motions to quickly put the food away. "I can't believe Jane puts up with this on a daily basis," she mumbled to herself as she dropped an empty pot into the sink.

 _Focus, Maura. Don't take offense. She's just afraid._ "I may not want to know what you're thinking," Maura answered as she accepted her second cup of coffee, "but that's all right, because I'm not here to ask questions from you. I'm here to tell you anything _you_ want to know." There was no need to address what Jane put up with, or whether Angela would prefer that Maura go back to England on the Mayflower with her adopted ancestors, or whether she should just go straight to hell in a leaky rowboat. She was here to help, and she would do whatever Angela said.

"There's nothing you can say that," the older woman began as she ran water in the sink. She stopped talking and narrowed her eyes considering what she was about to say. "How is Jane really handling all of this? In the park, she seemed so relaxed, but I know my Jane; she's good at putting up a front if she thinks she needs to."

That first question about Jane herself could have gone so poorly, but it could also have been a lot more insulting. Maura was relieved. "So far, only you three plus Barry Frost, who found out on his own, know about us. She doesn't want to make it a big deal, even though it probably will be for some people, because... well, you know Jane. She doesn't like anything to be a big deal, so she intends to tell Vince sometime this week, and then just not mention it to anyone else unless they ask. She won't lie, though, so if anyone does ask, be prepared, because people will learn about us. Mostly, Jane is scared to lose her place in the family. You all mean the world to her, and she doesn't want to feel like she's on the outside." She stood up to get a little more cream for her coffee, whitening it down. "However, despite the stress that it's causing to have to actually say anything, and the possible rejection from people she cares about, Jane _is_ happy. And she is finally sleeping at night."

The last bit of information made Angela stop working. "She's sleeping?" Visibly shaken, she pulled her hands out of the sudsy water and wiped them on the towel to dry them. "Jane is actually sleeping through the night again?"

Maura nodded, bringing her own cup to the sink to wash it herself as she repeated, "She's sleeping." The statement brought a smile to Maura's features as well, an echo of many mornings, not just the ones since their relationship became acknowledged. "She laughs a lot. Quietly, not raucously, not just because of humor. She tells me how she feels. She eats healthily; you'd be proud of how often she's the one who suggests salads, lately. She's not as quick to dismiss things, and her natural compassion shows more often. She's so very gentle, and I'm so very lucky to get to see her that way. But mostly, Jane sleeps. And when she wakes up, she is usually smiling."

A breath fell from Angela, as if she'd been holding it in for a very long time, and, only now was able to release it. Strain around her eyes, mouth still tight, she nodded as she regarded the younger woman. "She said you made her feel safe." A beat to compose and the older woman continued on. "Give me time, Maura. I'm trying here. I'm treating you like family because you're da… I mean you belong to… you're seeing my daughter." She sighed heavily. "You're _dating_ my daughter." She said slowly, forcing the words out. She dropped her head, eyes falling to the ground to avoid the doctor's gaze for the first time since Maura arrived that evening. "You are dating my _daughter_ , who clearly adores you, and she's happy." She sighed and gave a shrug. "She's happy and _sleeping_." Her eyes traveled back up, not quite making eye contact but coming close. "It's starting to get late. You should go home so you both can get some rest. You two have to go to work tomorrow, and Frank'll be home soon."

Maura stood, recognizing the close of the conversation for the moment. The progress was more encouraging than she had expected, by far. She clicked her tongue, and picked up the squirmy dog who came running as Maura removed a small stack of pamphlets from her purse. "These are for you. You don't have to read them right away, but I hope you'll keep them until you do feel able to read them. Thank you for agreeing to see me, Angela. I do need to go. I'll see myself out. Next time is up to you. When and if you want to talk about this, or anything else, I'll always be available to you." With that, she wrapped herself and Joe Friday against the rain and headed back out, into the dark, to go home to Jane.


	2. Chapter 2

_It's 10:30, and Maura's not back yet. God, I hope Ma didn't kill her._ Jane stood in her darkened kitchen looking out her back door onto the small patio that faced the other buildings. Sipping her beer, she groaned inwardly. _I'd really hate to have to arrest my mother for killing my lover._ She snorted. _One of these days, I'm going to get used to weird sentences floating through my heard. I swear, since I started hanging around Maura, they've been happening more and more often. She's so quirky._ Jane shrugged. _It's cute, though. Like her nose. I think her nose is cute, and I think her eyes are amazing. I wonder if anyone has ever told her that her eyes are... what? Captivating?_ She took another thoughtful sip of her beer as she watched the lights flicker on and off in the windows across the way. _Yeah, they probably have. She's dated some pretty smart people. Wonder if she's ever had someone tell her that her eyes are more interesting to stare at for hours than watching a Sox game?_ A chuckle escaped. _Probably not._

 _Man, maybe I should go over there? No. I promised Maura that I'd let her handle this, but Ma is... is... going to kill me for letting this happen._ She sighed, shifting her weight. _Where **is**_ _she? She took Joe. Ma wouldn't kill someone holding her grandpup. At least, I don't think she would. Maybe I should call?_ Jane shook her head. _Really, Jane? You need to pull it together. Maura can handle herself. She's badass. You've seen it more than once with your own eyes. Just chill. She'll be home soon... probably._

With a grunt of frustration, Jane walked to the sink, rinsed out her bottle, and tossed it in the glass recycling bin Maura had brought over a few weeks before. Returning to her spot, she put her hands on either side of the door frame and leaned forward, head bowed. _God, when is she coming home?_

Thunder cracked and rolled threateningly, concealing the click of high heels as a woman trotted into view, highlighted moments later by the lightning as well as the street lamp. Darkness turned her brightly colored raincoat, umbrella, and her large purse to dusky shades of near-grey, but did not conceal the lump beneath the raincoat, the one that made her look like she was about to give birth to some alien or demon. The lump wiggled, but she held on firmly and gently, cradling the little life to keep it as dry as possible.

Moments later, the front door opened, un-muffling for a few seconds the suddenly sharp sounds of falling raindrops on the sidewalk. "We're home," called the familiar voice as Maura set down Joe Friday and began divesting herself of rain gear and bags of literature. She was not quite bedraggled: her definition of that included wet hair, and hers, though frizzy with the rain and humidity, was still dry. Still, her boots were wet, and she looked somewhat less than perky. "There was a brief lull in the storm on our way home, so I parked and took Joe for her walk."

"You're alive," Jane was already to her before Maura could finish taking her boots off. "I was afraid I was going to have to arrest Ma for homicide." She waited impatiently for Maura to finish pulling off her books and neatly placing them beside the door before pulling the smaller woman to her for a much needed kiss. "I'm glad you're home," she brushed a few wild, frizzy hairs from Maura's face. _She looks good even when she's coming in from the rain. Of course she does. She just looks good. God, I'm glad she's okay._ "I really was worried. Call next time?"

"I will, sweetheart, I promise." She tilted up on tiptoes to press into her love's body in relief. "To tell you the truth, I don't know what it means that she didn't become frighteningly loud. But she heard me. She disagreed with some of what I said, but she didn't stop listening. I'm impressed with her, Jane. Your mother's heart is so open, especially in comparison with what I'd expected. I really did think she was only playing nice in the park because you were there, but she wasn't all that different from that day."

"Really? Well, that's," the brunette took a pause to consider, "surprising. What did she say?" Jane led the way to the sofa, sitting down and then guiding Maura to settled against her.

Maura curled into Jane, momentarily distracted by the sheer comfort of doing so. Only for a little while, though. She snuck a hand under Jane's as it rested on the uppermost of their four various thighs. "She said Rizzolis take a while to learn things, but once you got the hang of things, it tended to go quickly. Then she said she was unhappy that you thought she would hate you or abandon you, but she reiterated that you have never disappointed her. Also, she mentioned that she'd considered this possibility for you, and had spoken to Father Reynolds, and although she didn't describe his reaction in detail, you probably remember when she stopped attending his services. Father Martinez is apparently a little more receptive. Your mother wants you to have a place to go, if you're going to be _this way_ , where you feel safe."

" _This way_?" Jane rolled her eyes. "I wonder if she's ever going to be able to say the _word._ " She wrapped her fingers around Maura's. "Maybe if she can, I can say it without feeling weird." A little sigh escaped before the detective could stop it. "I always wondered why they changed churches. Ma would never say. She just said that they didn't see eye-to-eye on a few things. I guess those 'few things' were me." Jane shift, urging Maura to move with her so that they could lay on the sofa, Jane's back against the the back of the sofa and her arms wrapped around the honey blonde. "I should be surprised she was preparing for this, shouldn't I?"

"You should feel whatever you feel," Maura said as she lay down along the length of Jane, holding on with the transparent excuse of not wanting to fall off. There was enough room that she would not fall, but she would never look a gift hug in the mouth. Or... arms. Something. "I don't know if Angela will say the words lesbian or gay any time soon. I suggested that she could, but she didn't like that much. It was difficult for her to not be angry with both of us. It's a good thing we both decided you shouldn't be there. I think she would rather not have you see her that way. She really, really wants you to know she loves you, and I think she's afraid to show you her anger and confusion in case you mistake it for imminent disinheritance." To take the sting out of what she knew she had to say, Maura took to stroking Jane's arm lightly, soothingly. "She asked what I did to you. I think she wanted to ask was how I got you into bed, but she wasn't specific, and I didn't want to give explicit details if she didn't really want them, so I answered a different question, which seemed to satisfy her for now."

"You're right. It's probably better I wasn't there." Eyes going distant, Jane stared ahead, through Maura as opposed to at the women in front of her. "You didn't do anything to me. I... I think," she closed her eyes, clearly remembering something. _Susan... Anna... Maria... Claudia... Arti..._ "I mean, I'm pretty sure I've always been like this." _Debbie... Jessica... God, how many women **have** I been attracted to? _ "I just didn't want to deal with it. It was bad enough that I was cop instead of being something normal, like a secretary; I really didn't want to be any _more_ different. I just didn't have the heart to hurt Ma like that." _I didn't have the guts to take this step, either. You make me a braver person._ Her eyes refocused on Maura's face, her eyes. "You didn't do anything but make me a braver person, and I don't think that can be a bad thing, can it?" Her arms tightened around her girlfriend.

Maura pulled her head back a little so her eyes could focus on Jane's face, so near. "You were already brave, Jane, but yes, more courage is always good. Anyway, I tried likening orientation to your left-handedness. That didn't go over well, but it did give me an opening to discuss Hebrew Bible and New Testament theology with her. Just for a few minutes, but I think it gave her at least a small amount of reassurance. Did you know that there are over one hundred sixty laws for heterosexual relations, one for male homosexual relations, and none for female homosexual relations? I could tell that Angela was getting bored, so we put the texts away and I offered her a chance to get to what was really on her mind."

"And did she?" Jane began to lightly rub patterns across Maura's back as she kept her eyes locked with the hazel eyes she so loved to stare into. "What was it?"

Maura started to temporize, but then didn't think it was fair, so she presented the actual, full truth. "She said I didn't want to know where she thought I should go. Based on facial and vocal cues, I will venture a supposition that I don't actually believe in the place, but wouldn't want to go there if I did. However," she added as she placed a hand on Jane's forearm to try to still the incongruously tantalizing touches, "Angela did have a question. She wanted to know if you were really handling this as easily as you seemed in the park.

"I told her," she explained quietly, "that you were tense about how other people would perceive you, judge you, and possibly reject you. I also told her that that seemed to be your only source of true conflict. For the most part, I told her, you seem happy and that you're sleeping at night. That, I think, surprised her more than anything else since you came out to her. And then she reiterated that she was trying, and treating me like family because I'm dating you. She had trouble saying that, but she did say it. I'm extremely proud of her. This can't be easy for her, this shift in her awareness of you, but she loves you enough to try, to wrestle with what she knows. She won't be thrilled about this for a while, but she _will_ realize it's who you are and therefore she'll accept it. Eventually."

Jane blinked a few times, processing. _Do I? Huh, I guess I do._ "You're right, I do sleep better. Ma's always worried that I don't sleep well. I guess... well, it's a start." She sighed heavily. "Are you sleepy?"

"I could be," Maura replied, stretching to kiss Jane's jawline. "Or I could not be. Whatever you need, Janie."

"Just you," came the reply before the detective could think about it. A blush quickly followed. "I mean, we should get some rest. We have to go to work tomorrow, and I have to talk to Korsak about this and tell Frost that he can stop pretending like he doesn't know."

* * *

"I ought to wash your mouth out with soap. No, make that bleach," said Vince Korsak gruffly in his broad Southie accent as he muscled through a workout that was getting harder by the day. "Look, Simmons, I'll put in a good word for you with Rizzoli, but you're going to have to act like a gentleman even when she's _not_ around to hear how filthy your mouth is."

The woman in question had just left the women's locker room in favor of the floor mats to stretch out, just as her best friend, the Queen of the Dead, was leaving the mats. They exchanged words for a moment, then Maura made for the nearest weight bench, which was within conversational distance of Korsak and Simmons. "Good morning, Vince," she greeted him with a fond smile as she adjusted the weights to begin her upper body workout: tiny weights, but she would take an impressive number of reps, in five sets rather than three. That would strengthen and tone her muscles without adding the bulk that she did not want.

"Hey, Doc," said Vince, taking a bit longer than strictly necessary on the rest between sets. He lowered his voice as he said to Simmons, "Doc Isles is her best friend. You better clean up your language around her, because if a girl's best friend doesn't like you, you've got no chance."

"No chance for what?" Jane stopped beside her ex-partner. "You're not doing what I think you're doing, are you Korsak?" She glared at him looking from one man to the other. "If you're starting to pick up Ma's habits, no one will stop me when I shoot you."

Korsak ducked his head, abashed, as he set down his barbell. He wasn't really using it much, anyway, and was thinking of hanging it up early. "All right, all right. All I said was I'd introduce you. Jane Rizzoli, John Simmons." He leaned forward, as if Simmons wouldn't be able to hear him, and mumbled, "Just give him a shot, Janie. He's a good guy. Just dinner. Gal's got to eat, right?"

Korsak might have had the grace to look a little guilty, but Simmons didn't. "Hi, I'm John Simmons. White collar crimes." Behind and a little off to the side, Maura continued her upper arm presses, breathing like she was in a Lamaze class in spite of a grin that threatened to break through. Her hazel eyes flicked towards Jane as she mouthed, between _hoo-hoo-hoo_ breaths, _Be nice._ Which didn't mean she should accept Simmons's invitation, but that she should decline without completely emasculating the poor schlub.

Jane shot Maura a dirty look, rolling her eyes to indicate she got the message. "Simmons," she gave him a curt nod, "nice to meet you, but, I... have plans for all of my free time between now and eternity." She glared down at Korsak. "You," she gave in a sharp, two finger point, "come with me... now. We're talking." Glancing back at Simmons, she gave a sickly sweet smile, "We need to go powder our noses." Then, without another word, she grabbed Korsak by the elbow and proceeded to haul him to the back corner of the gym for some privacy.

Each of Maura's arms formed an 'L' with her hands at the top, spreading apart like wings, then closing over her face, to work her shoulder muscles. In between each press, she watched Simmons with speculation. He wasn't bad to look at, truth be told. Well-developed muscles, but not to the point of unappealing largeness. Tall. Boyish features, a confident stance. If Jane had been single - and straight, she reminded herself - Maura probably would have reinforced Korsak's suggestion. Instead, she smiled with a touch of smugness. _Too bad, handsome. She goes home with **me**. We're close. We share everything._

The man's endearing smile broadened as he responded to what he thought the Queen of the Dead, of whom he had heard, was communicating. If Rizzoli was busy, maybe her friend was free. "Hi," he said with knowing charm.

"Oh," Maura replied with discomfort, eyes widening as she clued in to what her smile had erroneously communicated. "Um. Hi. But no."

* * *

"What's your problem, Rizzoli?" Korsak asked, rubbing his elbow where he was sure there would be marks within a few minutes. "Simmons is a nice guy. Upstanding cop, and I'm no expert, but I thought he wasn't ugly or anything. You can't give him the time of day?"

"I can give him the time of day, but that's all I'm giving him," she spat out in a whisper as she pushed them into the furthermost corner away from everyone in the gym and out of ear shot. With the look on her face, she was sure no one was going to bother them. "Korsak, **_do not_** try to set me up. I mean it." Her voice, already husky from irritation, grew even deadlier with threat. "I. Am. **_Not_** _._ Single."

Korsak ran it down in his mind. Jane didn't really do anything outside work without the other Bobbsey Twin joined to her at the hip, so it had to be somebody at the precinct. Not a uni, she wouldn't date a uni... Well, maybe. That really tall blond guy had flirted with Rizzoli at the Dirty Robber that one time, and she was friendly with the guy from Robbery, and of course there was Frost... No way. _No way._ Not her own partner. You never dip your wick in the company ink. "Okay, I give," he said after a long stretch. "Who's the guy, or are you just shining me on?"

Licking her lips by way of stalling, Jane straightened a little. With a roll of her eyes and groaning, she just came out with it. "It's not a guy," she said quietly. "It's a chick, okay?" She gave a quick glance in Maura's direction before pulling what little courage she had together and meeting the elder detective's eyes. "I'm dating a woman."

Korsak may have missed a major thing, but a minor thing never passed him by. He followed Jane's gaze towards Maura, who was at the moment politely turning down Simmons with a shake of her head, and then stared back at Jane. "Seriously? You and the Doc?" Pause. "That's hot."

"Man, Korsak, shut up!" She gave him a smack on the upper arm. _Thank God... and, yeah, it is kind of hot._ "Show a little respect. That's my girlfriend you're talking about."

For the second time that morning, Vince ducked his head in contrition. "Sorry. So, how long has this been going on? You've been turning down dates right and left for..." His eyes widened. "Wow. And I call myself a detective. It's getting to be about time for me to retire, isn't it? Oh, hey, does Frost know? Because I still have to get him back for the football bet we made. I want my fifty bucks back."

"Okay, first of all," again she did the two finger point. This time, she poked him in the chest with each point she made, "this is recent, so don't start getting any ideas. Second of all, my love life is not to be used for you to get your fifty bucks back. You lost the bet. Deal with it. Third of all, Frost already knows. Maura confirmed it for him because _he_ figured it out on his own." She gave him a little smirk, proud of the junior detective, her partner, for getting one up on the senior-most detective on the squad. It meant he was learning a thing or two from her. "Fourth of all, you're not that old yet, so stop using your ancientness as an excuse for being oblivious." She dropped her hand, placing it firmly on her hip, shifting her weight as she did so. "I guess this means you're okay with this?"

Korsak leaned against the wall, mopping his brow. The workout had sapped him more than he wanted, but at least he'd worked out. It would be a start. "Yeah, all right, I'm kissing my fifty goodbye, already. Fine." He folded his bright orange towel and tucked it back into the side of his pants. "So, sure, why shouldn't I be okay with it? I guess, looking back, I probably should have known this anyway, right? But Janie, you always said no whenever anybody said anything. I mean, how recent is this? Did you know and just didn't want to say, or is this _really_ new, even for you? And how'd you ever bag the Doc? I mean, if there's a straight woman anywhere in the precinct, I figure it's either got to be her, or the one that keeps getting pregnant because her husband's like a jackrabbit and their religion doesn't allow birth control. Is this just some thing, or is it a _thing_? Did you tell your family?" All of a sudden, Korsak couldn't keep still his questions long enough to get any of them answered. "Are you just dating, or is this serious? I mean, are you hitting that, or –"

"Hey! What did I _just_ say about showing a little respect for my girlfriend?" Her glare stopped him cold. "I always knew; I just didn't _know_ , you know?" She rolled her eyes as Korsak shook his head with a near-complete lack of comprehension. _It's good when you can make sentences that make sense. How about trying to do that, brain?_ "Look, I know I denied it because I really wanted it to not be true, but it _is_ true, and I'm dealing with it. Maura is... she's different, and I finally caved a couple of weeks ago because I just could fight it anymore." She ran a hand over her face. _I can't believe I'm telling him this._ "Sleeping with a chick isn't new. Having a _relationship_ with a woman is, but," she shrugged, "I won't lie; this has been the best relationship I've think I've ever had."

"It darned well ought to be," replied Korsak with feeling. "You two are always all up in each other's business, or grills, or whatever it is people are saying these days. You're good for each other."

Another eye roll came from the younger detective before she continued. "Thanks... I guess. Anyway, as far as 'bagging' Maura," she narrowed her eyes, "not that it's any of your business, but we 'bagged' each other. She's not as straight-laced as you men think she is. If you'd bother to get to _know_ her instead of being weirded out because she's a little quirky, you'd know that." Her look was growing hard, protective. "You guys never cut us any breaks, not that we need them. But, the least you could do is bother to get to know her before you start calling her 'Queen of the Dead'." She was ranting. She couldn't stop herself. "Man, what the hell do you call me behind my back, huh? If Maur is 'Queen of the Dead', what am I? Her 'Knight of Justice'?" She rolled her eyes, throwing one hand up in frustration.

Both Korsak's hands flew up, palm outward, as if demonstrating a lack of weaponry or other threats. "No names, just Rizzoli. We figure you get enough of that crap from the perps that are always calling you a dy... Um, _anyway,_ no need for us to add to it. You're just a good cop, that's all. Not that you couldn't be a knight, I mean, if that's what floats your boat. Honorable, ass kicking, totally whipped by your lady. I can see it."

She gave him a dirty look. _I am not whipped. Am I? Nah._ "Whatever. And, yes, my family knows. Frankie, Pop, and Ma. Before you ask, Frankie and Pop are fine. Ma's... working on it." Her face shut down, shoulders tensing. "She'll be fine, sooner or later."

Korsak frowned. "She'll get there," he said with perfect faith. "Meanwhile, what about the rest of the force? You want me to keep this under wraps? I've got your back, Janie. Yours and the Doc's."

"I don't want you to do anything." At his confused look, she continued. "Maura and I talked about it, and we decided that we'd tell you, Frost, my parents, and her parents and leave it at that. We're not going to lie. So, if someone asks, we'll tell the truth, but we're not going to fly a flag or anything. If someone asks you, you send them to _me_. I'll handle it myself." She absentmindedly tightened her ponytail. "And, if _anyone_ harasses Maura, I'll kick their ass."

Korsak took a moment to consider all his options, and came down on the side of supportive teddy bear. More precisely put, he swept Jane into a hug that he already knew she wouldn't allow him to live if he ever did it again, and thudded his hand against her back. "You got balls, Janie," he said gruffly, unknowingly echoing her own father's words. "You're going to need them, but at least you've got them." He let her go and headed for the men's locker room, but then turned back around. "Anybody harasses either one of you, _I'll_ kick their ass. You know, after you're done with them."

"Thanks," she said with sincerity quickly followed by, "and STOP calling me Janie."


	3. Chapter 3

"Maura," Jane walked through the morgue doors, coffee cup in one hand and report in the other. "This report is missing pages 3, 7, and 15." She stopped at the medical examiner's side. "While I'm down here," she looked over Maura's work area and then glanced down at the top of her coffee cup, "are you up for midweek drinks? I know it's only Wednesday, but after everything that's happen over the past couple of days, I could use a drink."

Maura had propped the doors open to allow more air circulation than usual, and so there was no door opening to alert her to anyone's presence until Jane's footsteps reached her ears, and even then, she did not pause in her work. She was bent over the body of an elderly person with her back to the door as she delved into their last mysteries with machine-like precision, yet with a slowness and gentleness that she did not usually exhibit, even for the very young. The body was covered from the waist down at the moment, but above, her scalpel had just made the last leg of a Y-incision and she was reaching for the rib spreaders. Her face bore signs of even more focus than usual, and compassion, as if this person would still be able to feel it. "Hm. Yes, the missing pages are in a separate file in my lower desk drawer. I'm going to have them copied before putting them back, and move the copies into one of my safety deposit boxes, just in case." That case was about a mob hit; she suspected her biological father of involvement. "And I'd love to have drinks after work. I think I'll need to unwind a little after this one."

The detective took some time to watch the medical examiner work, noting the more careful movements. "Hey, is everything okay?"

Maura took a moment to evaluate her feelings before nodding. "This person's body has already told me so much about how its owner lived, and I haven't even gone inside yet. He lived a very... difficult life. Lots of old scars. I'll know more as I continue to investigate, but right now, all I can think is that this person deserved a little bit softer hand from the world than what he received."

"This is Mr. Donovan, isn't it?" _I don't like this. The scars…_ Jane glanced down at her hand, still wrapped around the warm coffee cup. "I thought we were pretty sure he passed away of natural causes?" _That big brain of hers makes all kinds of leaps. I hope she's not thinking about what I think she's thinking about._ She turned to set the coffee cup and file folder on the cabinet nearby before returning to her spot beside Maura.

"I won't know until after I've completed the autopsy," said Maura as usual as she gradually peeled back the layers of dermis to reach the inner muscles, then those too, and so on until bone was exposed, "but I can already tell you that William Donovan's death couldn't have been much worse than his life. Physically, at least." She leaned past her girlfriend, for once not distracted by the nearness of the body she adored, though she did spare a fleeting thought of gratitude for the feeling of warmth at their proximity. Sometimes she forgot that human beings were supposed to be warm. _Well, I used to forget,_ she corrected herself as she picked up the rib spreader and situated it. One focused pull, and the crack opened up the chest cavity.

Jane grimaced at the sickening cracking sound the ribs made as the medical examiner worked. _Oh God… gah… how does she **do** this all day? _ "I'm guessing he's pretty scared up then? But, you know, we probably should expect that given his listed profession before retirement, right?" _She has to be stupid amounts of strong to just crack this guy open like that. Why haven't I noticed that before?_

"Mm," Maura replied noncommittally as she set down the instrument, which did require some strength, though not much - it was well designed for its task - and picked up her scalpel once more. "I can already tell you that his listed profession was not what Mr. Donovan actually did with his time. His muscular development is not that of a bouncer at that establishment. I suspect, given the," and here she went off on words that only another doctor would really understand, "that our deceased spent more time in the back rooms than by the front door. Ooh..." She bent over the now open lung with a hastily grabbed sample dish. "This should help clarify matters somewhat."

"What?" Jane leaned over as if she knew what to look for, placing a hand on the doctor's back to steady herself.

Maura held up the sample dish to show the liquid she had collected. "I'm not prepared to speculate on the nature of this substance. However, I _am_ prepared to speculate on the victim's profession. I believe he was a professional switch."

The detective stepped back, crossing her arms as she eyed the sample dish before waving her hand in the air to indicate she wanted to not see it anymore. "Okay, I can only think of _two_ definitions of 'switch', and I doubt you mean either one of them, so what do you mean by 'professional switch'?"

Maura did a very subtle doubletake, first just to look at Jane, and then another quick check in mild surprise before she bent back over the body to do a little more hunting for more clues regarding the death of her patient. "He spent about half of his professional life in the role of a sexual submissive, accepting various physical actions from those who paid him to take them. Based on the scarring, I would say that on a few separate occasions he permitted himself to be branded, subjected to very mild knife play, and," she gestured significantly towards the lower body covering, "what is commonly referred to as CBT. I'd rather not have to explain the first two initials, but the T stands for torture. The other half, roughly, of his professional life consisted of wielding various implements that developed his hand and forearms muscles here, here, and here; also, note the calluses on both hands, though predominantly on the right hand. These developments, and others," which she pointed out with less verbal detail but every indication that she could flesh it out if asked, "indicate that he was also a professional sexual dominant." She outlined in detail the exact signs she had noted, then went on. "When a person does both, they're considered to be what's called a switch. I believe it refers to the ability to switch from one role to the other with little or no difficulty."

"Okay," Jane's cheeks were starting to grow pink, "you meant exactly what I thought you meant." Her arms tightened around her body and she took another small step backward, away from the dead people table. _Old dude in a leather biker outfit with collar and riding crop. Ew… never getting **that** picture out of my head. Blech. _ "I don't know why I'm surprised you know that." She rolled her eyes and mumbled something about the doctor being a 'walking, talking Google'.

"My first cadaver," explained Maura as she took various other tissue samples, delved into things that no person would ever want to think anyone would ever dig into, "had similar indicators of the submissive variety, but his came from abuse. This man was almost certainly a willing participant. However, I can't help but wonder what makes a person seek that out. I know that every need comes from a different source for every person who has that need, but... Well. I shouldn't speculate on a patient's mental state without definitive proof, so I won't." She paused for a moment, bending close to take a better look at something, and took another sample from the pancreas. "In the meantime, this man is going to get a little bit gentler handling from me than he got from what looks like everyone else in his life."

"I love your compassion, Maur. I don't think I've ever told you that before." Jane gave the medical examiner a gentle smile. "I'm going to head back upstairs. I don't need those pages right now, so I'll leave the file here. Drinks tonight at the Robber?" She walked back to the doctor's side. "Kiss goodbye?" _Did I just ask for that? Yes. It's not like it's a secret anymore. Hmmm… I think I like that._

"Hm, yes, c-... Drinks. Robber, after work. Oh, and we'll be met there by some of our friends. Basically, the ones who are aware that they're _our_ friends." replied Maura, once again devoting delicate scalpel work to one of the few patients who might have at least enjoyed contemplating such a notion, if not actually experiencing it on such a level. Then the offer of a kiss penetrated her awareness, which caused her to step back slowly, set down her scalpel neatly, check the front of her gown to find a lack of... contaminants, and then whirl around with a smile and upturned, expectant face. "I'm sorry I can't hold you, but," she held up her bloodied gloves, "you know. You'll have to do that part of it for me."

"I think I can handle that." With a gentle touch, Jane placed her hand along Maura's jawline, bringing the smaller woman forward as she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the waiting lips of her girlfriend. "I like this kissing you in public thing," the sentence was out of her mouth before she could stop it. _She's got to have truth serum in her lipstick or something._ A quick jolt of shock was followed by a shy smile as she pulled away.

"Really?" asked Maura, her voice gone suddenly softer, more intimate. "What else do you like in public?"

The deep red blush covering the detective's features was only off set by the stutter in her voice. "You know, I...I really should just," she pointed toward the door, "go… out there… to the elevators… to, you know… go back to that place where I do work things." _Work brain. Work._ She stumbled back a little as she tried to make a hasty exit, losing her footing and catching herself on the cabinet before she went completely down. _Nice move, Casanova._ "Damn it, Babe, you're the only person in my life who can make me a complete, blithering idiot." She sighed as she straightened up, not bothering to care that she was still blushing. "I still love you, though. I'm going to go before I embarrass myself some more."

Maura watched with sincere delight, not in the stumbling, but in the way Jane had become so open to responding. "I love you, too, sweetheart," she said with warmth as one of her junior medical examiners walked in and paused awkwardly in the doorway. "I'll come and find you after I've finished my work in William Donovan, and we'll go to the Robber and have a lovely evening with our friends. _Yes_ , Dr. Michaels, what is it?"

* * *

The Robber wasn't very crowded. Wednesday nights tended to be pretty quiet, and Jane was relieved to see she was the first one there. She and Maura had decided to split up and hit their respective places to freshen up and change. Jane was more than happy to be in a t-shirt and jeans again.

After throwing a greeting to the bartender and picking up a glass of wine for Maura and a bottle of beer for herself, she settled at their normal table to wait. _I wonder what she's planning? She said to expect our friends tonight. I just never know what she's really up to. She throws me for a loop all the freaking time._ She shook her head, a smile gracing her lips as her eyes sparkled with something light and happy. _I think I love that about her most, that she can surprise me._

Knowing that Jane always faced the door, Maura didn't even try to sneak up on her. She simply let Frankie Rizzoli hold the door open for her with his free hand as she brought in the wide, flat, rectangular box, leaving him to carry a shopping bag from one of _her_ favorite stores. The fashionable woman's face lit up as she made for 'their' table and set down the box. When the pair of them were about halfway to that table, in walked Vince Korsak and Barry Frost, both of whom headed right to the bar and started ordering, pointing at the selfsame table at which Jane was already seated.

Maura waited expectantly until others cleared the table of anything and everything, then set down the box and slid right in next to Jane, effectively trapping her in the booth, as Frankie then began unpacking disposable utensils, plates, and napkins. "Hello," she said in that tone of voice that spoke of so many things that finally, finally she had permission to express. This time, it wasn't even quieted down for only Jane's ears, but pitched so that all three of their closest friends could hear it as they joined and arranged themselves in the other side of the booth and a pulled-up chair.

"Hey, Babe," without a second thought, Jane wrapped her free arm around Maura's shoulders, pulling her closer. "What's in the box?"

Unexpectedly for her, Maura actually blushed at this first contact, this wordless but unmistakable claiming before these men with whom they were each, individually, close. She scooted nearer to nestle against Jane's side. "What happens every time a cop retires?" she asked Vince, who responded immediately, "Somebody brings in cake."

She turned to Frost to ask, "What happens when someone has a birthday?" He caught on quickly and responded, "Cake. Candles, if they're not shy about their age, but at least there's cake."

To Frankie, Maura asked, "What if someone gets promoted, or transferred, and people want to say congratulations or goodbye?" One word he answered: "Cake."

Finally, her eyes lit again as she lifted them up to her lover's face. "And what happens when someone wants to say congratulations, acknowledge the end of something or the beginning of something, or if someone deserves to be honored as having, doing, or being something amazing and beautiful?"

Dark brown eyes considered hazel for a moment longer than was comfortable for the men waiting for an answer. "Cake?" _She didn't…She did._

Even without her say-so, Frost and Vince each reached for a corner of the box and pulled the lid off. "Ta-da," Vince caroled quietly with a grin. Fortunately, the cake was not decorated, just frosted beautifully.

"Italian cream," Maura explained with a little squeal underlying her tone. "Frankie said it was always your favorite flavor." She didn't even have to say that it was quickly becoming hers, too; every man at the table looked a little embarrassed for a moment, and then each one pulled an envelope from an inside jacket pocket or a breast pocket. Maura did as well, but unlike the men, she didn't hand hers over right away.

"Let me guess," _I just can't stop myself._ "Italian cream cakes are your favorite, too?" _God, I miss my filter sometimes._ With a chuckle, she noted the cards in each person's hand. Apprehension clearly written on her face, Jane took the offered envelopes. "A cake _and_ presents?" She made a humming sound as she looked expectantly at Maura and the envelope in still in her hand.

Maura confirmed the guess with a broad, open, couldn't-be-stopped smile as Frost kidded Jane. "I don't think she was thinking about Italian cream _cake_. Sorry, Frankie," he added as her brother cleared his throat. Again, Maura's little head tilt underscored her agreement with the point.

"No presents," Vince said as he tapped the edge of a card at random. "Just some things we were thinking about and figured you ought to know. Go on, open them up."

Pursing her lips and reluctantly pulling her arm away from Maura's shoulders, Jane took each envelope, opened it, and quietly read each card with its hand written note inside. A few chuckles, a couple of times to clear her throat, and once to roll her eyes up to keep from crying, and Jane slowly put the three cards down in a neat pile on the table. "Thank you." Her voice was quiet but sincere. "I… it's really… I mean, the fact that you guys are so supportive and I just… just thank you." She gave a small smile before clearing her throat again and turning to her girlfriend. "You, too?" Hey eyes flashed down to the hand still holding the one unopened card.

Maura slid over her card, following the motion beneath the table with a steadying hand to her thigh. "We all love you, Jane. Differently, of course." Her card was a cheerful spring green, and the front was entirely covered with the words, **_CONGRATULATIONS, you're a lesbian!_** Inside, it continued, **_(You gorgeous lesbian, you.)_** Then, in Maura's flowing, girlie script, _I still think it's worth celebrating. I still think it's a beautiful gift. I still think you're fearless._

But she wasn't finished yet. Long after the cake had been eaten, the drinks had been drunk, and the boys had smothered Jane, Maura, and then both of them in several individual and group hugs, Maura had one more surprise for Jane. As they were leaving, she slipped her hand into Jane's, and with it came something hard, irregular in shape, and a bit pointy. It proved to be a key to her car. "As of this morning, you're on my insurance. Take me home, Jane."

The tall, lanky brunette stopped dead in her tracks as she stared down at the key in her hand. Mind blank, limbs numb, she could only blink at the gift sitting in her hand. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down from the sudden emotional rush that simple key had given her. _Nope, it's not the key. You know better, Janie._ "Okay," she finally whispered as she walked over to Maura's car, unlocked it, and walked to the passenger's side. She blocked Maura's ability to open the door. "Maur," her voice cracked, "I think… I think I'm going to just kiss you for a few minutes, okay?" She reached forward, pulling the smaller woman to her, not quite kissing her yet. "Say yes."

"Right here?" Maura asked, voice quiet as a purr and far more alluring, hazel eyes half-lidded but darkened with pupil dilation. "Right now?" She stepped closer, a hair's breadth from full contact from breast to knee. "Against..." she whispered, "my..." her head tilted upward, breath tickling Jane's lips from so close by, "car? _Yes. **Yes.**_ "

"Whenever," Jane's breathed, "where ever, and, yeah, right now." She closed the distance, pulling Maura into a deeply passionate kiss.

Maura acquiesced, or rather, took charge, nudging subtly until Jane was the one pinned to the car door. Just before both of them could entirely forget their whereabouts, they heard their three guys calling raucous commentary.

"Whoooo, go Rizzoli!"

"Oh, god, that's my sister... GET A ROOM!"

"That's _hot_!"

With a laugh, Maura pulled out of the kiss, gave Jane a heated look, and called back, "You're just jealous of me because Janie's mine! _Mine_. That's right, you all want to be me tonight, with the exception of Frankie who wants to be Jane, because _she's_ going home with _me_."

And, whether privately or aloud, every one of them agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday evening saw Jane and Maura a lovely little Ethiopian restaurant, where they were shown to a traditional basket-table surrounded by cushions rather than chairs, and already seated was a man of slight but muscular stature, bald-shaven head, wearing a suit pitched perfectly for understated good taste. Peter Garcia stood to offer Maura his greetings. "Dr. Isles, how lovely to see you again," he said in the clipped tones of those who are considered for the highest duties done for the upper upper-crust, and then went in for a European kiss on each cheek.

"Peter," Maura greeted him warmly, smiling with true affection as she placed a hand at Jane's waist to bring her forward. "Jane Rizzoli, may I present the inestimable Peter Garcia. He is every bit as competent at his profession as I am at mine, and a good friend by now as well. Peter, it's my pleasure to introduce Detective Jane Rizzoli of the Boston Police Department, Homicide Division, my chosen companion."

Having been briefed by Maura in preparation for their meeting, Peter did not offer Jane a more standard handshake, but a little bow with hands clasped in faint imitation of prayer, which would have looked a bit obsequious, except for the head-tilt and grin expressing a private joke between them. He had evidently already decided that Jane was not to be simply the friend of a customer, but the family member of a client who saw him as a friend rather than a servant. "It is an honor to meet you, Detective. I look forward to being of service to you. Oh, my, Maura," he added with a twinkling smile, dispensing with formality with the security of one long ago granted such permission, "you weren't kidding. She _does_ have dominant energy."

"Right?" Maura asked Peter rhetorically, smothering giggles only when it became apparent that Jane remembered the source of the comment.

 _Dominant Energy?_ Jane nodded in greeting and then glanced to Maura. _Where have I heard that before?_ "Is... that a good thing?" The detective's eye shifted between the man still grinning with what she would consider mischief and the woman she happily called her girlfriend. _Dominant Energy.. dominant energy... where the hell... Oh. My. God._ "Maura," Jane's eyes widen just a smidgen, "did you talk to that bartender about me when you were working undercover at the Merch?"

"Um. I, I might have had a short conversation with her while she was outfitting me in my uniform. She wondered what was wrong with me, that I hadn't at least attempted to – oh, what was the phrase? Strike that? Punch that? Anyway, I told her I never chased the straight girl. It goes against my principles. I _might_ have neglected to mention that I didn't think you were straight, however."

Peter's subtle gestures throughout this explanation had led all three of them into seated positions around the table. "I took the liberty of ordering for us," he explained as food started appearing, layers of wide injera flatbread made of teff flour as an edible plate within their basket table, followed by little dollops of various other dishes whose juices would soak into the injera. The meal was served family style, so that everyone would eat with their fingers. Peter pointed out with a wink to Maura, "I thought you might appreciate that." Her laughter, mischievous and red-faced, indicated that this was indeed a man who had transcended the role of mere staff member and had become a member of Maura's personally chosen family.

After much delicious food, when the last of it was cleared and all had cleaned their fingers on warmed towels, Peter pulled up a secondary table that had been resting nearby, this one not a basket table but almost like a little footstool, and set out a largish velvet box. "As much as I've enjoyed this little soirée, I think I'm about to enjoy this part even better." He lifted the lid.

Inside were four pendants, pinned into place, and three chains. There were also, because he was an above-and-beyond sort of man, two brooches and three bracelets. "These are all within the budget that you specified, and all of them fit most of the qualifications that you set for me. I'll let you choose a piece and a chain, take that one in for the engraving we discussed, and then return the rest to their stores."

Roughly half the pieces were white gold, and these were the larger pieces; the others, Maura identified in a murmur as platinum. "Most of the stones are engineered stones," Peter explained, "because it's less expensive to find hand-made stones with the same chemical composition as natural stones. I judged that you would probably prefer to have a truly beautiful piece for your budget, rather than the prestige of being able to state that they were naturally occurring." The stones in question, as previously discussed, were various birthstones for Angela, and some of them also bore stones for Frank and their children. One of the wrist pieces, Peter pointed out, was a locket held in place by a chain which, when the time came, might be eventually cluttered with the birthstones of Jane's mother, father, their children, and assorted grandchildren over time. "So, as you can see, it's entirely up to your preference and what you feel will be more to the recipient's tastes."

Carefully, quietly, Jane picked up the final locket and held it in the palm of her right hand as she ran the fingers of her left hand over it. "Ma wants grandchildren." She spoke quietly, mostly to herself as her eyes darkened with some deep emotion. _That's the one thing I don't know if I'll ever be able to give her. But…_ She glanced to Maura before returning her considerate gaze back to the locket in her hand. _I think I'd like to… now._ "She's always been all about the family." With no little amount of reverence, Jane handed the locket to Maura. "What do you think, Maur?"

Maura had been sitting perfectly still as she surveyed each piece. She knew which one she wanted to suggest, but this was Jane's mother. As Jane touched the very piece she had immediately chosen, she let out the breath, then caught it again as the implication hit her. _Children. Could I even have children? They didn't even like me when I was supposed to be one of them. How could they like me or trust me when I was an authority figure?_ The bracelet, which Maura picked up and lay across her lover's wrist to see it 'in action,' gleamed softly against Jane's skin, the way it would against her mother's. _Angela **would** love it. She would see it as a promise, though. Am I prepared to make a promise like that? Maybe she would think we only mean for Tommy and Frankie to supply her with grandchildren, and for the stones. I could live with that._ Her gaze flicked towards Jane's face, that beautiful face she loved so much, and she knew that was not enough. Jane looked as hesitant as Maura felt. No one hesitated quite that much over a piece of jewelry that wasn't an engagement ring.

_Engagement ring? Are we ready for that?_

Because Maura knew quite well that if they bought Angela a bracelet that hinted at a promise to supply her waiting arms with all the grandbabies she could hold, she and Jane had better be prepared for both reactions that suddenly played out, in full, in Maura's quick mind. Either Angela would be angered and offended that – she flinched inwardly at what she expected to hear – two hell-bound perverts would consider being in charge of actual children, or she would be beside herself with joy as she suddenly found herself able to ignore Maura's gender and focus on things that mattered even more to her, such as the perpetuation of the Rizzoli name. Did Maura want to face either possibility? One look at her girlfriend's face told her that _Jane_ was willing.

_Then so am I._

"Peter, you're a treasure. Thank you for finding this piece." she whispered, sliding her hand into Jane's. "We'll take it."

A sense of giddiness ran through Jane's body. _She's amazing. I can't wait until… well, one thing at a time, Janie._ "Yeah, this is perfect. Um… how do we do this? I mean, will you," she looked at Peter, "wrap it and everything, or do we… I'm sorry," she flinched, "this is kind of weird for me. I mean, normally I just go hit the mall…" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to cover her face and hide some of her embarrassment and feelings of inadequacy that were quickly replacing the giddiness of a moment before.

Peter had, on occasion, had a client who was new to the workings of personal concierges. Though he would never boast, he handled more than one rags-to-riches story among his clientele. Providing explanations was something he could do with practiced grace, removing awkwardness from those who suddenly realized that having access to funds, and to him, did not automatically confer knowledge of how to utilize his services. As he closed the box and packed it away, he explained, "What happens now is that tomorrow morning I will take this piece to the engraver and have it engraved with the inscription that we discussed over the telephone, then return the other pieces to the jewelers from which I borrowed them. I'll deliver your finished piece to your offices by noon, in a gift box. Financially, I'll send the bill to..." He glanced towards Maura, who nodded. "...to Dr. Isles, and the two of you will work out the personal details of how the cost is split."

"That should give us time to figure out what picture to put into the locket," Maura agreed, "or to take one, if we want." Subtly, her posture shifted. Business was concluded, and right as she moved to signify it formally, their waiter walked up with a tray of glass tea cups and a pot of tea to seal the deal. As he withdrew, Maura smiled again, hand sneaking back into Jane's. "Now that that's out of the way, Peter, how is your husband?" From there on out, the three of them spoke as friends.


	5. Chapter 5

"Tommy, stop staring at my girlfriend's boobs," Jane slapped her youngest brother in the back of the head as they walked up the front steps to their parents' house.

"Really?" Tommy rubbed the back of his head. "That hurt, Janie."

"One, _you_ don't get to call me 'Janie', so stop it. Two, if I catch you ogling her boobs again, it'll hurt more than that." She gave her brother a hard look. "This is going to be hard enough without you acting like an ass, too." Face softening from the dirty look she was giving her brother, she glanced over to Maura. "Babe, you ready for this? I don't know how Ma's going to be, but Pop said to for you to come, and… I'm glad you're here." She blushed, glancing down at the ground as Tommy opened the front door for them to enter.

Maura's eyes held an apology for Tommy, but she would not gainsay Jane in front of others. She would speak to him later. For now, she turned towards Jane and recalled the conversation they had had earlier. "I'm ready, sweetheart. If Angela would prefer, I can absent myself from the room, or go to a coffee shop until you're ready to come home. But if that's the case, Jane, _do not_ cut the night short. We have the rest," she glanced towards a suddenly interested Tommy, then decided, why not? "...rest of our life. Let her have tonight." That would be enough: all feuding would have to be placed on hold, whether it was between Jane and Tommy, Frankie and Tommy, Jane and her mother, or Angela and the uncomfortable facts of her children's lives. Maura the Peacemaker, their future generations would call her.

"Okay, Babe. I promise not to be an ass even if she has a cow." Jane winced. "Okay, I promise to _try_ not to be an ass." She held the door open for Maura and followed her in. "Ma, Pop?"

"In the kitchen!" Angela's voice rang out.

 _Of course. Why do I even bother to ask?_ Jane led the way into the kitchen. "Hi Ma, why are you cooking? I thought you were going to let us do that." She kissed her mother on the cheek.

"I tried to get her to stop. I told her that we were going to do it, but, you know how she is." Frankie was sitting at the kitchen table cutting vegetables for a salad. He stood up, greeted his brother with a curt nod, and turned to the two women. "Looking good, sis. I like the new look." He smirked at Jane's sudden comfortableness. "Hi, Maura. You look great, too." He winked before giving the small woman a hug hello, and blushed when she rose to tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "Ma sent pop to go get bread."

"We were running low, and there's going to be a house full!" Angela defended as she accepted Jane's hello kiss before wiping her hands on the towel by the sink. "Tommy, you look so handsome. I'm glad you cut your hair." She kissed her youngest on the cheek. "Maura," everyone held their breath, "I'm glad you're here. I could use help with the sauce. You're the only one of the four of you that can get it right."

The breath Maura had been holding eased out of her lungs as her costal muscles and diaphragm relaxed, and with it came a sunny smile. "I'm glad you saved me something to do. Thank you." Putting on an apron to cover her dupioni silk dress, she stepped right into her role as sous chef, or rather, chief pot stirrer – the real work had been done, and all she really needed to do was keep the creamy sauce from scorching or curdling. "Happy birthday, Angela. With all this talk about how good everyone looks, with which I agree, I hope it's an appropriate time to mention that I really hope I look as good as you do when I'm ten years younger than you are."

"Aren't you sweet?" Angela replied, a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she went back to making the ravioli. "Jane, can you start on the filling? Tommy…"

"I know, get cracking on dessert." With an eye roll, he headed to the fridge.

"You're a good boy, Tommy." The matriarch moved with confidence around her kitchen until her oldest blocked her path. "Jane? Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, I did." Jane's voice was quiet as she leaned down to whisper in her mother's ear. "Thank you, and I love you, too." _I know this is hard for you. **Thank you** for being willing to try._ She gave her mother a hug, which Angela gently returned.

"The best birthday present for a mother," her mother said softly as she pulled away, "is when she knows her children are happy."

 _Drat my lachrymal glands,_ Maura thought as she watched mother and daughter with envy so powerful it stole her breath away, then faded to leave little but happiness. _Thank goodness she has this._ Absently, she reached for the little pile of chopped herbs nearby and started sprinkling them into the sauce, alternating that with the freshly grated parmesan in a nearby bowl. Angela had not told her to do it, but her nose told her that these flavors would be appropriate. So confident was she in her choice that she did not even realize when Angela, looking for a way out of the suddenly intense moment with her daughter, glanced her way and nodded with approval, then went to chastise Frankie for sitting on the couch when clearly there were more salad vegetables that needed to be cleaned and sliced.

* * *

"Ma, come on! We'll do the dishes later." Jane grabbed her mother by the elbow to guide her out of the kitchen and into the living room where everyone else had congregated after dinner. "It's your birthday. Can't you relax for two seconds?" She sat her mother down at her normal place and then seated herself in the floor in front of the sofa. Maura was seated on the sofa, Frankie next to her, and Tommy on the end. "Besides, you have to open your gifts."

"Yeah, we'll make Tommy do the dishes later." Frankie said as he nudged his little brother in the ribs.

"Hey, scre…"

"Okay, that's enough, you four. Let your mother have a nice birthday? Tommy, watch your mouth. Frankie, stop teasing your brother. Jane, Maura… I got nothing. Just, everyone behave, okay?" Frank chastised from his chair.

"It's okay, Frank. I'm just happy that everyone's here." Angela smiled brightly. "So, who's first?"

"Me!" Tommy replied instantly, backing his response with the youngest child's petulant, "We always go in order of age, and I don't like being last every time. Besides, I've got a lot of birthdays to make up for. Here, Ma." He presented her with two small boxes. The first she opened to find a camera. It wasn't fancy or expensive, but it would take digital photos. "You're always wanting pictures, so I figured this would make it easier for them to get taken and shared around," he explained. Everyone was impressed, not only at the gift, but at its thoughtfulness. The second gift was an enameled brass coin, proudly proclaiming him sober for six years. No one said a word, each one remembering that his "rock bottom" moment had happened just a few days before Angela's birthday, both the worst and the last day that he had had a drink. "I'm going to get you a new one of these every year, Ma," he promised.

Angela reached out and patted her youngest on the arm. "You're a good boy, Tommy," she repeated before pulling him down to place a kiss on his cheek. "The camera is a perfect. You'll have to show me how to use it later, okay?"

Tommy nodded and returned to his place on the sofa, a grin firmly planted on his face.

Frankie stepped up next, with a set of olivewood serving spoons and a new olivewood salad bowl. "I know you've been wanting these," he said bashfully, "so even though they're sort of for work and not fun, I figured you'd be proud to use them."

"They're perfect!" His mother practically squealed her excitement. "You _were_ paying attention. I love them, Frankie, thank you." She smiled brightly at her son.

Frank gave the girls a bit of a reprieve, seeing nervousness in their faces, and presented Angela with an envelope. "You're already so good at Italian food, you don't need a class for that. You're already a master, right? But I saw how much fun you had with that French chicken last week, and I thought..." The card, as it turned out, was not a greeting card but a letter from a local cooking school, a very good one, where he had signed her up for a twice weekly class in French cuisine. "I figure you'd get to learn from somebody who really knows what they're doing, and talk to other people who love to do the same things you do."

"Frank," his wife's voice cracked, "this is really thoughtful. Thank you." She gave her husband a kiss thank you before letting him shuffle back to his chair.

With nothing left, Maura glanced at Jane and nodded. "Go ahead, baby. You've got this."

Awkwardly, Jane stood from the floor and took the gift Maura had been holding. "Here, Ma." She cleared her throat as her mother took the beautifully wrapped gift. _Here goes nothing._ "Maura and I picked this out for you."

Angela's eyes flashed from her daughter to the woman sitting on the sofa behind her before looking down at the small package. "It's so pretty! I almost don't want to open it." She smiled as she looked over the gift wrapping. "Okay, I can't wait to see what this is." With that, she slowly pulled the ribbon allowing the wrapping to fall away to reveal a velvet box. "Oh!" Angela's eyes sparkled as she opened the box to find the bracelet with the locket sitting there. "Jane, this is… it's _beautiful_!" Wonder in her eyes, Angela pulled the gift out of the box, holding it up to the light.

"It's one of those bracelet/locket things where you can put the birthstones of your family in it if you want." Jane was nervously shifting her weight as she explained. "So, you know, we can put in yours, Pop's, ours, the grandchildren when they come…" _I said it. I can't believe I just said it. Don't hyperventilate. That would be bad, and my brothers would never let me live it down._

"Grandchildren?" Angela's voice held a note of confusion mixed with surprise. Again, her eyes flashed back to the woman quietly sitting on the sofa, who looked back with a serene smile. That was a conversation for another time, but at least now Angela knew that they would be having it. Then, she opened the locket to find it empty of any photos.

Jane answered the unasked question. "We have a photographer lined up who can take some family photos, or just pictures of you and Pop, or just… um, whomever you want. You just tell us who you want and when you want the pictures taken, and Maura and I will take care of it."

"Well, it'll have to be a family photo!" Angela inhaled deeply, her eyes closing for a moment to compose herself and settle something internally. "Right, Maura?"

"I could take one right now," replied Maura with another, broader smile, "since Tommy was so thoughtful as to provide the means. I have a printer that will print on photo paper, as well."

"I think," Angela said with a great deal of thoughtfulness, "that we should all pick a time to go get our picture taken while we're all together. Getting you kids all in the same place at the same time is like herding cats. Frank, what do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a good idea." He nodded his approval.

"Okay," Angela pulled out a pad of paper and pen from the side table by her chair, "Everyone tell me when you're free so we can figure this out." Each of her children took their turns giving their free times for the next couple of weeks. With an expectant expression, Angela looked to Maura, "Maura, what's your schedule look like? I know it's a lot like Jane's, isn't it?"

 _Don't make a big deal. Jane hates it when I make a big deal, and I'm sure I know where she gets that trait._ "Yes, very much like Jane's. I've made it a point to only be on call when she is, so if Jane can be there, I can, too." _She doesn't like anything about this relationship, but here she is, opening her heart to it because she has such a huge capacity for loving. I want her as the grandmother of my children._

"Good." With a flick of her pen, Angela made a note. "It looks like we're all free next Wednesday. Can you get the photographer for then?"

 _When I'm alone with Ma again,_ Jane swallowed the lump in her throat, _I'm going to apologize for every bad thing I've ever said or done to her, and, then, I'm going to thank her until I'm blue in the face for her being her._ She missed the question from her mother.

"Jane?" Angela narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay? You're not getting sick are you?"

"What? No! No, I'm fine. I just… was thinking about some stuff. What did you say?" She gave her brothers a hard look. She did not appreciate the snickering from the peanut gallery behind her.

"I said can you get the photographer for Wednesday, because that's when the entire family will be free." Her mother's annoyed expression was only amplified by the clear irritation in her voice. "Jane, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Ma. Honest." She sat down in floor in front of the sofa again, leaning back to feel Maura's presence behind her. _Safe._ "Yeah, I think we can swing that. Babe?"

Quickly, Maura nodded, leaning discreetly inward to place a hand on the small of her girlfriend's back. "We'll be there with bells on. Figuratively speaking, of course. I don't generally wear bells, because they make such a noise and it would be so distracting most of the time, but every once in a wh—... Um..." She glanced between Angela and Frank, who were clearly having the same thought concerning her babbling, then to the three Rizzoli kids who were each having variations on a different theme, and wisely decided to just hold onto the story of that tribal dance class for when she was alone with Jane again. "Anyway, we'll be dressed appropriately."

"Good, you make sure to dress Jane. You do a better job," Angela grinned, giving her daughter an all-knowing look. "You did a great job tonight, by the way. I love her shirt. I always thought she looked great in mauve."

Maura chuckled in acknowledgement of Angela's point, and for once, did not blurt out the first thing in her mind. _I love dressing Jane. The undressing part is even better._ "Maybe a darker, richer color," she temporized. "Pomegranate, wine, eggplant, or plum." _She always makes me think of foods. Very, very flavorful foods._ "I'll wear something in the same color family. I don't think she'll let me get her into mauve again any time soon. Dressing Jane is like dressing a squirmy six-year-old, as I'm sure you're painfully aware. That's too tight, that's too short, _I can't walk in thaaaat._ " General laughter ensued, even a bit from Angela, who Maura realized later was probably not pleased at the mental image of Maura dressing or undressing her daughter.

"You know, I _can_ dress myself." Jane fumed. _Why do things always end with pick-on-Jane time?_ She turned to face her laughing brothers. "Hey, shut up!" She slapped at Frankie's leg.

"Be nice to your brothers!" Their mother automatically commented before nodding to herself. "Okay, now that's all settled, who's up for dessert?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next title in this series "A Little Closure".


End file.
